Hello again. Apologies for the long delay between posts. I’ve been… well, you know what it’s like.
I thought I’d get going again by reflecting on what I got up to on Wednesday, a day of two technological halves. In the morning it was our turn to give the family presentation at our home school group. After some debate, we decided to talk about chalk, prompted, in part, by this gorgeous book: Do Not Erase: Mathematicians and their Chalkboards. I’m working on a detailed review, so I’ll limit myself here to just a few brief observations.
Jessica Wynne’s approach is simple: she travels round American and Europe taking photos of mathematicians’ chalkboards (including their work in progress) and then gives a page to each mathematician to explain their work and why they still work with chalk and board. A simple concept but stunning results. The photos are lovely (and often intriguing) but it is the mathematicians’ reflections on their craft that I found really insightful. Here’s Philippe Michel from the Swiss Institute of Technology, Lausanne, for example:
Blackboards are a fundamental component of a mathematical life. The very first thing I did when I arrived in my office in Lausanne ten years ago was to ask that the ugly whiteboard, with its smelly red pen, be replaced by a true chalkboard.
Why? There are lots of reasons, one of which is beautifully described by Benson Farb, professor of mathematics at the University of Chicago:
A computer doesn’t help much with 40,000 dimensions, but on a blackboard, I can work up a schematic of the situation, explaining it in real time to a student or collaborator. She can jump up and start writing on the board during my explanation, amending my computations, noting possible problems, unwrapping some equation into a flurry of computations of her own.
Doing this dance at the blackboard with someone is an intense, frustrating, energizing, and sometimes moving experience. It’s the kind of connection with the mind of another human being that is rare in everyday life.
He says that, “Chalkboards are a major part of my life. I couldn’t live without them.”
But there’s also a pedagogical reason why the chalkboard sometimes trumps the computer, a point that mathematician after mathematician mentions in the book. How many times have you sat through a Powerpoint presentation in which the presenter either spends way too long on a slide, perhaps reading out what’s on the screen, or he scoots on without giving you enough time to process the ideas he’s presenting? Writing on the chalkboard, by contrast, slows you down to the speed at which your audience can follow the unfolding of the argument. New tech does not necessarily create better education.
Now, I realise that I may have lost you already. You may be thinking about your own experiences of chalky blackboards. In other words, you may be thinking about dust! That’s why I’d like to introduce you to the Rolls Royce of chalk, Hagoromo Fulltouch, whose exquisite beauty is explained in this video. I’m hoping to spark a nationwide chalkboard revival, at the heart of which will be Hagoromo chalk, enormous, high quality chalkboards, and in-service training on how to clean a chalkboard properly. We shall see.
However, there was another reason why we gave a chalk talk. We live on the North Downs. I was born on the North Downs. We walk the chalk everyday. Chalk has been the bedrock of our lives. And yet, when I ask my students about the underlying geology of the area, they have no idea what’s under their feet.
But geology matters. It creates the landscape, it shapes the ecology, it provides us with our drinking water. I’m working on a large chalk project so again I’ll (try to) keep it short here. Let’s focus on ecology. Here are some of the flowers you might well find round here on the chalk downlands. I took these pictures on Kenley Common and in Woldingham. First some orchids. Anyone want to have a go at identifying them?
And here’s Martin Down on the Dorset / Hampshire border, one of the most important archaeological sites in the country, where I was last weekend. You can just about see some of the many barrows in the area in the distance.
Here’s a typical field-side scene:
There’s a lot more to show and tell - the chalkhill blue butterfly, for example, is glorious - but I’ll finish this segment with a picture of one simple way families might want to explore and draw / write up what they’ve seen:
So that, in a chalky nutshell, was my morning.
In the afternoon, I made some new friends from Shalom World TV, a media enterprise which began in India and has now gone global. They’re making a series about the 40 martyrs of England and Wales and wanted to interview me about St Swithun Wells. I’m by no means an expert but I enjoyed the experience. First we filmed the interview, then we moved outside for a linking section. No longer mic’d up, we chatted as we walked across the lawn. Any lipreaders watching the programme will be able to tell we were actually chatting about Tom Stoppard!
So there we are, a day of two halves. Chalk and cheese, as it were.
By the way, I’ll also be appearing on Radio Maria England on Tuesday 5th September from 9-9.30am. It’s a back-to-school programme and I’ll be talking about Meg and the Great British History Mystery. Please tune in and let me know what you think!
Delightful read -thanks for opening my eyes to chalk and chalk nature.